Sleeping With the Enemy
by Ron4
Summary: Alex does the unthinkable. GeorgeAlex with GeorgeCallie undertones.
1. The Thing About Callie

**Sleeping With the Enemy  
**_Chapter One: The Thing About Callie_

_Grey's Anatomy  
_**George/Alex  
**George/Callie undertones  
R

* * *

"Karev, you son of a bitch!" George seethed. "You fucking asshole, you fucking son of a fucking bitch!" George was angry. Really angry. His facial features were stony, fixed. He grabbed Alex by the throat, shoving him away from the bar. The crowd immediately around the two men went silent, watching them. George slammed Alex against the wall. "What the fuck, man?" George's hard face dropped a little. His grip loosened on Alex's throat. His tone softened just a little. "How could you?"

"I was doing you a favor," Alex wheezed, though he didn't try to break George's grasp.

"Fuck you!" George spat, retightening his hold. Alex choked, but still didn't stop George.

"Guys, break it up! Guys!" Joe yelled, rushing up to the two interns and pulling George away. "Damnit, George, what's the matter with you?"

"Ask this bastard," George gnarled, stumbling out of Joe's hold.

"George, you've gotta go. I hate to do it to you, man, but I can't have this tonight. Go on home," Joe said. He and Alex watched as George angrily snatched his jacket from the barstool he had previously been sitting at and slammed through the main entrance.

Alex rubbed his neck tenderly and took a drink of his beer.

Joe looked at him. "What the hell was that all about?"

Alex sighed before taking a long pull from the bottle. "I'm guessing he got a call from Callie."

* * *

George couldn't _believe_ Alex Karev. Absolutely could not believe him. He jerked open the front door of the house, fiercely kicking his shoes off. Meredith, who was surprisingly not at Joe's that night, heard the commotion and stepped out of the kitchen.

She was holding a cup of coffee, but seeing the expression on George's face, she set it down and stepped up to him. "George, what's wrong?" She was truly concerned – she'd never seen George like this. Gently placing her hand on his bicep, she waited for an answer.

He yanked his arm from her hand. "Alex, that fuck."

"What about Alex? What'd he do?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," George breathed, and swept past his roommate, barging upstairs.

Meredith winced as she heard his door slam loudly. She took a deep breath and picked up her mug. She was just about to return to the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. Furrowing her brow, curious as to who'd be visiting this late, she glanced out the window. It was Alex. She raised her eyebrows and slowly opened the door. "Hello, Alex."

"Hey, Meredith. Is, uh... is O'Malley here?" Alex bit at the corner of his lip, rubbing his hands together in the algid air.

"Yeah, come in," she said, stepping back to allow him to escape the cold. He entered the foyer and Meredith closed the door behind him. He sniffed and glanced around. "So... what exactly happened tonight?" Meredith added softly.

"I don't... I'm not really sure that it's my place to say anything. It's got to do with O'Malley, and I don't want to piss him off even more by telling you."

"Alex, George came home more angry than I think I've ever seen him, and all he said was that you were why. If this is something serious, I need to know," Meredith frowned. She cupped her hands around the mug, bringing her arms in close to her chest.

Alex exhaled heavily. He adjusted his gaze from the floor to Meredith's eyes. "I slept with Callie."

* * *

"O'Malley, man, seriously," Alex said, gently rapping his knuckles on George's bedroom door. "Open up, let's talk about this."

"Go the fuck away," George yelled back.

Alex sighed, letting his hand drop away from the door. He hung his head down. "You should probably just leave him alone," a voice said from behind him. He turned around to find Izzie a few feet away from him, leaning against the wall.

"This is between me and him," Alex said. He turned back to George's door, knocking again.

"Really, Alex, how are you planning on making this situation any better?" She frowned.

"Izzie, please." Alex took another glance at her and she just shook her head, stepping back into her own bedroom. He sighed again, and moved his face closer to the wood. "O'Mal– George... please just give me a couple minutes to make this right."

George didn't answer this time, and Alex figured that he might as well admit defeat. He lifted his forehead from the doorframe and was just about to turn away when the door cracked open the slightest bit. "You can't fix something like this in two minutes," George said lightly.

"George... I just... can we just talk?"

Again, George didn't reply, but he stepped back with the door. He lifted a hand as if granting Alex access to his bedroom, and Alex accepted. George closed the door as Alex sat on his bed. It was silent for a moment, before George broke it. "So let's hear it."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. He tried again, and hoped he didn't make this worse. "I did it for you, George."

George, who was leaning against his dresser, jumped up, his eyes wild. "For me? What the fuck are you talking about, for me? How does that even–"

"No, no, I mean... um... look, Callie and I... had sex, yes. And it was a mistake. But a good mistake," Alex said, and saw the heat rise in George's face again, which caused him to speak faster, "a good mistake, because it proved that... Fuck, George. I told you she was fucking Sloane, and you didn't believe me. And I got drunk and things happened, and I slept with her. George, she's not the girl for you. You deserve better."

"You son of a bitch!" George said, and dove at Alex, pushing him hard into the bed. George attempted to punch him, but this time Alex defended himself and grabbed both of George's wrists.

George struggled for a few minutes, but Alex held tight onto his wrists and linked his feet around George's ankles to prevent being kicked. Finally, George gave, and breathing heavily from tussling, he glared at Alex.

"I did it for you," Alex repeated ever-so-softly, and let his eyes flutter closed as he raised his face to George's. Their lips connected slowly, slightly, but as suddenly as Alex had kissed him, George had pushed himself off.

"You fuck!" George yelled, clambering off the bed. He was still breathing heavily, and his expression was angrier than before. He ungracefully shoved his hair away from his eyes. He continued to stare at Alex until he finally got off the bed and left the room.

Alex turned back to say something, anything, but George slammed the bedroom door in his face.

* * *

_Chapter two, soon..._


	2. The Futility of Explanations

**Sleeping With the Enemy  
**_Chapter Two: The Futility of Explanations_

_Grey's Anatomy  
_**George/Alex  
**George/Callie undertones  
R

* * *

"How'd it go with George last night?" Meredith asked Alex after Cristina had left the lunch table. 

"He didn't say anything?" Alex looked across the table at Meredith.

Meredith thought Alex was acting kind of strange today. He hadn't even touched anything on his tray. She shook her head. "No. I've barely seen him all day. And when I have seen him, he just walks really fast with a fixed stare."

Alex sighed. "He pretty much just gave me the cold shoulder."

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"I guess I deserve it," Alex said. He pushed his tray forward, slouching in his chair.

"So... why'd you do it?" Meredith asked slowly.

"I was drunk, I dunno. And she slept with Sloane, and I don't think George deserves that," he mumbled.

"Wait, Callie slept with McSteamy?"

"If that's what Sloane goes by these days. And she slept with me. He just shouldn't have to be in that situation."

Meredith took a drink, thought over what she was about to say. "Alright, Alex, two things: one, George isn't even with Callie right now, and two, why do you care about George's well-being?"

"George is still hung up on her, and it's like this: if they're going to end up getting back together, he needs to know that she rebounds quick." Alex frowned at his tray, and finally decided to pick up his apple.

"You didn't answer my question," Meredith said.

"What's that?" Alex asked through a mouthful of apple.

"Why do you care about George's well-being? You've never cared about what's happened to him before."

Alex shrugged. "He's my friend. I'm trying to watch his back."

"Since when are you and George friends?" Meredith asked incredulously, almost laughing a little.

Alex glared at her. "So we've had our differences. It doesn't mean I don't like the guy."

"You gave him syphilis," Meredith said.

It took all he had not to yell at her. She was being stupid. "Everyone always brings that up! I didn't 'give' him anything. I had slept with Olivia first. It's not like I intentionally did it. That doesn't even make sense, Grey," he growled, and picked up his tray and left.

Meredith just sat there.

* * *

All day, George was pissed. Well, confused more than pissed, but still a little pissed, nonetheless. Had Alex Karev seriously kissed him the night before? Alex Karev, the manwhore of Seattle Grace? The previous night still seemed surreal to George. The one minute they were arguing, and the next, Alex was underneath him, kissing him. George suddenly got the chills, thinking about it. It was weird to think about. 

He debated telling somebody. But, there really wasn't anyone to tell. After the incident with Meredith, they weren't as close, and Izzie and Alex were still having their awkward tension, so she was out of the question. Plus, what was the point in telling anyone, really?

So all day, he walked the halls with a steely disposition. He wanted to look as if he were on a mission, so hopefully he didn't have to talk to anybody. He wasn't the best with hiding his emotions, and if someone ragged him enough, he'd lose it.

He had been lucky enough to not yet run into Alex, but that was only because he headed straight towards his destinations and skipped lunch. But, there was still a long day ahead of him. In Seattle Grace, there was literally always a surprise (either pleasant or unwanted) around every corner, and George was sure that he couldn't avoid Alex all day. Stuff like that just didn't happen there.

George cleared his throat as he stepped onto the elevator, nodding at the few doctors and nurses already on. And sure enough, as the doors were shutting, Alex stuck his hand out to catch the ride. He stepped in quickly, and seeing George, he froze. "George," he greeted, awkwardly.

"Alex," George forced, just because there were others on the elevator. He gritted his teeth, hoping this fucking elevator just hurried up. There was nothing like an awkward tension to slow down what would have been an otherwise decent elevator ride.

They both stood there, quietly, George staring at the twin, metallic doors, and Alex looking at George from the corner of his eyes. Finally, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Everyone got off – everyone except George and Alex.

The doors closed again, and George had a feeling things weren't going to get any better during this ride. Sure enough, Karev pulled the button to stop the elevator.

"Why does everyone in this hospital have a fascination with that fucking button?" George said to no one in particular.

"Look, George, about last night–" Alex began.

"Alex, I don't want to hear it. You and Callie... fuck, man."

Alex was slightly taken aback. "Oh. I wasn't talking about that."

George finally looked at him. "What, the kiss? Big deal. It happens. But nothing else is going to happen because you... you and Callie... fuck..." George trailed off. He reached over and pushed the button back in. The elevator started moving again, and when the doors opened again, George hurried out.

Alex just stood there.

* * *

"Yo, Alex!" Cristina called as she approached him in the parking lot. 

He turned, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "What's up, Yang?"

"Can I catch a ride? I rode with Burke today, but he's not ready to go yet. And I have a lot of shit to do at home," she asked, catching up to him. They walked in stride towards Alex's car.

"Sure, I guess." They reached their destination, and slid into their seats.

Most of the way to Cristina's, the two rode in silence. They didn't commence with their usual snarkiness. Alex didn't even point out that Cristina's shirt was on inside-out. There was just silence.

Until Alex finally stopped outside Cristina's place. But instead of getting out, she turned towards him. "So who turned you down?"

"Huh?" he asked, bewildered.

"You know, who rejected you? Who didn't want to hop into the sack? Who said no to your offer to do the horizontal tango?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he frowned, staring at her.

"I've known people like you before, Karev. People that never get refused for some good, wholesome babymakin'. And I know that face you've been making all day. You're not used to being turned down, and someone refused the Karevmeister," Cristina smirked. She was good at this. She always had been.

"Nobody, Yang. I thought you had a lot of shit to do?"

"Seriously, who was it? That nurse Kendra? Or that attending, Dr. Lanthrop? She's pretty hot. Or–"

"Yang, leave," Alex said, short.

"Or was it Izzie? Are you still trying to hit that?"

"Yang..."

"Or that girl in records, Carolyn?"

"Really, Yang–"

"George?"

Alex stopped. "What?"

"Was it George?" she asked, completely serious and nonchalant.

"What do you mean, was it George?"

"Exactly what I asked."

"Yang, you been hitting the morphine? I'm not–"

"Karev, like I said, I've known people like you. You've been acting weird around O'Malley for weeks, and today it hit an all-time high. I don't care if you're into George. You're down with the rainbow, right?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Look me in the eyes and say it's not George."

Alex looked her in the eyes. "It's not George."

Cristina shrugged. She opened her door and slid out of the car. She shut it, and as she walked away, yelled over her shoulder, "don't worry, I won't tell anybody. I'm not a gossip." She went inside.

And Alex just sat there.

* * *

_Not too much George/Alex interaction in this chapter, but hope you still enjoyed it... Chapter three, soon..._


	3. The Benefits of Whiskey

**Sleeping With the Enemy  
**_Chapter Three: The Benefits of Whiskey  
__  
Grey's Anatomy  
_**George/Alex  
**George/Callie undertones  
R

* * *

This day was just too much for Alex. He was going to the bar. Regardless of the fact that he only had about six hours until he needed to be back at the hospital, he was planning on getting drunk. First his irritating lunch with Grey, then his confusing elevator ride with O'Malley, and finally, his awkward conversation with Yang. It was just too much. 

"Give me a shot of whiskey," he said as he slid onto a barstool.

"Any preference?" Joe asked, stepping towards the whiskey bottles.

"Whatever's strongest," Alex said without hesitation. As an afterthought, he added, "and make it a double."

"Coming up," Joe said, grabbing a bottle and filling up a double shotglass. He slid the glass to Alex, who immediately brought it to his lips and downed it quickly.

He slammed it on the bar. "Another." Joe repeated the procedure until Alex had consumed four double shots. After Alex had polished off his last one, he licked his lips to disguise his after-shot face and stood up to go to the bathroom.

Alex was pretty drunk. Four double shots of strong whiskey in a matter of fifteen minutes will do that to you. He stepped up to a urinal, relieved himself, flushed, and washed his hands. As he opened the bathroom door, he sighed, debating whether he should have another drink. He probably shouldn't, considering he'd either still be drunk by the time his shift started or have the oncomings of a hangover.

But he didn't feel drunk enough. And Meredith had gone in drunk once, and they just shoved her aside and didn't worry about it. Alex wanted to actually do surgeries tomorrow and not be a pushover like Meredith Grey, but right now getting drunk was more of a priority.

He reseated himself at the bar. "Whiskey and Coke. Strong, no ice," Alex told Joe, turning slightly to scope out the other bargoers. Nobody he really recognized. He swivelled around again to take the new drink. He took a sip, winced, and took another.

Damn this whole fucked up situation, Alex thought. He grabbed a stirrer from the glass on the bar and slowly swirled it in his drink. Despite the fact that he had been drunk at the time, he thought sleeping with Callie would be a good idea. A wakeup call for George. In reality, it turned out to be a wakeup call for himself. Or, not really, because everything was really confusing right now. Hence the whole getting drunk thing.

"So what's eating you?" Joe asked, wiping the counter.

"Huh?" Alex asked, shaking out of his thoughts. He looked at the bartender.

"Four double shots and a strong whiskey and Coke in less than a half hour?" joe mused, checking his watch. "I've been a bartender for a long time. I can read peoples emotions solely through their drink orders." He leaned against the counter, throwing the rag over his shoulder. "So what's up?"

Alex sighed. "I dunno, man."

"You and George still fighting?"

"No... yeah... I don't know. Fuck. We're not fighting, we're just... not talking right now." Alex stirred his drink some more, a little more vigorously.

"You want to talk about it?" Joe offered.

Alex looked up at him. "No offence, Joe, but–"

Joe held his hands up in defense. "I know, I'm just a bartender. But, in saying that, I'm still a bartender. Talking to me is like talking to a wall – I take no sides, I make no judgements. But on the positive side, I can at least respond in the appropriate way at the appropriate time and maybe even offer some advice. Being a bartender, I've heard it all. But being Joe, I've never repeated any of it."

Alex sighed again. "Fuck. Just fuck, y'know? I don't have a lot of friends. My work friends – George, Izzie, Cristina, Meredith – we never really do anything. Or, they do, but don't invite me. But they've got their little established friendship and don't need anybody else. I'm just trying to get a little male companionship, get a buddy, y'know, but George just..."

"I don't think they don't need anybody else," Joe offered. "Everybody could use another friend."

"It doesn't seem that way," Alex mumbled, feeling awkward letting his feelings out like this. He stared into his drink, and realizing that it was still virtually full, he took a big swallow.

"Maybe they don't understand that you're trying to make an effort."

"Maybe," he snarled, taking another big drink.

"Well, here's your chance to try again," Joe said, nodding in the direction behind Alex. He offered a small smile and went back to wiping down the counter. Alex turned to see Cristina strutting up to him.

"What's up, 'Rev?" she asked, sitting at the chair to his right.

"'Rev?" he said, confused, frowning.

"Like, short for Karev?" she explained, ordering a vodka tonic.

Alex shook off the weird alteration of his name, but commented on her choice of drink. "Vodka tonic? That's fucking disgusting."

"Don't criticize me," she snipped, pulling her drink towards her. "At least I'm not getting denied access into George's pants."

"I'm not trying to get into George's pants!" Alex said a little too loudly. Nobody seemed to notice, but Alex still flushed.

"If you say so," Cristina said, sipping her drink. "But I bet I could get George into bed like that." She snapped her fingers for cinematic effect. "He's cute, but he's puppy-dog cute. Guys like him are a breeze."

"I thought you had a lot of stuff to do at home?" Alex changed the subject.

Cristina shrugged. "I guess there wasn't as much as I thought."

Alex nodded. He rotated his glass on the bar a few times before lifting and downing it. He debated whether or not he needed another.

"Ah, Georgie-boy, we were just talking about you," Cristina was saying, and Alex looked up. George was sliding into the seat on the other side of her. Without another thought, Alex caught Joe's eye and pointed at his empty glass, indicating that he wanted another.

"I'll take another one, too, Joe," Cristina said as she quickly finished her vodka tonic.

George was slipping out of his jacket as Joe brought Alex and Cristina their drinks. "And for you, George?"

George glanced down the bar. He nodded in Alex's direction. "I'll have whatever Alex is having."

"Whiskey and Coke, strong, no ice?" Joe asked.

"Yeah. Well, I'll have ice," George agreed. Joe went to fill George's order. Alex caught George's eye, but George averted his eyes and finished removing his jacket.

After Joe brought George his drink and George thanked him, Cristina spoke up. "So George, what are you getting me for Christmas?"

George chuckled. "Who says I'm getting you anything?"

Cristina put on her famous mock-serious face. "You better, dickweed, or I'll make your life a living hell. I do a lot for you."

George laughed. "What are you getting me?"

"I asked you first."

"What fun is it if I tell you?" George asked, stirring his drink.

"Because I'm probably not going to like it, so this way I'll tell you to return it and make a better suggestion."

George shook his head, smiling. "Oh, Cristina."

"I'm serious," she said, though letting a small grin to surface.

Alex watched this exchange silently, quietly sipping at his drink. This kind of relationship was what he was talking about. He wanted friendship like that. He pushed his still-full glass forward and stood up. "Alright guys, I'm out." Without waiting for a response, he made for the door. "Put it on my tab, Joe."

"Wait, how much has he had to drink?" George asked Joe, his brow furrowing.

"A lot," Joe said. "He really shouldn't drive."

"Shit," George said. He pulled three crumpled twenties from his wallet, and threw them on the bar to pay for his and Alex's drinks. He ran after Alex, who had just left the building.

Cristina grinned. "George doesn't know what he's getting himself into," she said to herself.


End file.
